Pick and Choose
by BregoMellonNin
Summary: Originally, the offerings were initiated by the humans to appease the werewolves by presenting them with possible mates. Now, it was a matter of choosing one of the girls or boys that the town had selected - because they no longer volunteered. It kept the contract of peace with the humans and it was sort of tradition by now, but Derek hated it with all his soul.


**A/N:**

A little plot bunny crawled into my head and I simply had to write it.

This story is based in a world where werewolves are common knowledge and the Hales have a treaty with the city of Beacon Hills to ensure both parties' safety. Every year, the city provides a selection of unattached boys and girls to offer the werewolves as potential mates. Then, the wolf or wolves in question has to choose one.

With regards to the description of epileptic seizures it's based on what I've been told by a friend who suffers from epilepsy herself, but as far as I am aware, it can be different for the individual people, so if your experiences with epilepsy is different, don't skin me alive, all right? :)

Thanks to my fabulous pre reader nmydreamz and my precious Dragontattoo75! What would I do without you, girls?

**Warnings: **Some offensive language, Mild violence.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Teen Wolf.

******Pick And Choose**

Derek hates it when his uncle puts him in charge of one of the offerings, especially when it's Beacon Hills. Neither of them want to revisit the town where the rest of their family burned to death, but Peter is the Alpha, so he wins this argument every time.

Originally, the offerings were initiated by the humans to appease the werewolves and while the supernatural was feared, it was also admired. Being mated to a strong wolf of a good family was very prestigious and every year a big throng of girls - and boys - would offer themselves up voluntarily.

Then, almost seven years ago, the Argent family moved to town and it all went to hell. Derek had been the one to choose from the volunteers that year. Kate was beautiful, seemed eager and kindhearted. She was genuinely interested.

In what exactly, Derek had not discovered until it was too late.

Now, it felt like Peter forced Derek to take care of Beacon Hills as some form of twisted revenge. No one took any joy in the offerings lately. Every year it was a matter of choosing one of the girls or boys that the town had selected - because they no longer volunteered - and give them a good fucking before moving on. It kept the contract of peace with the humans and it was sort of tradition by now, but Derek hated it with all his soul.

In an attempt to prevent a repeat of the disaster with Kate, they had built a room for the offerings to wait in, with a cleverly disguised one-way window. It was a way to observe and get a rough feel for the personalities of the girls and boys in there. Enough to figure out which one would be less of a bother, at least.

Derek isn't really interested in anything beyond the absolute necessity. The Hale pack governs a large territory nowadays and he only returns to Beacon Hills to honor the contract they have. He won't ever pick a mate from this town. At this point, he's beginning to doubt whether he will ever find a mate. If he will allow himself to trust someone like that again.

His attention snaps back to the waiting room when there's a startled yell coming through the thin walls. A tough looking guy is standing over a blonde girl, his face contorted into a mask of pure disgust.

"You'd go _willingly_? What's the matter with you? That's so gross!"

The girl whimpers, her whole body trembling. She doesn't even protest the treatment she's being given. Derek can feel a growl forming in his throat and he's reminded of why he detests this fucking town, when another voice rises into the mix.

"Leave her alone, you jackass! If you keep stressing her she will have a seizure! God, Jackson, you're such a fucking moron!"

The voice belongs to this scrawny kid with pale skin and the most intense honey brown eyes Derek has ever seen outside of the werewolf community. He looks like he'd break in half if Derek sneezed on him, but his gaze holds something intense... and almost dangerous. There's definitely a story there and Derek finds himself leaning forward in his seat, curiosity tickling at him.

The muscled guy, Jackson, turns on the boy and sneers, "So what, Stilinski? If she's so eager for some dog cock, she's not worth keeping alive anyway. What? You agree with her? You want some werewolf dick in your ass?"

Stilinski snorts at Jackson and spins around, ignoring the bully like he isn't worth the effort and extends a hand to the blonde girl.

"You okay, Erica?" he asks, voice soft and friendly. The girl smiles timidly at him and accepts the offer of help.

Jackson looks like someone slapped him in the face with a dead, rotten fish. The rage is clear in his expression and Derek sees the attack coming long before the guy actually moves. When he does, the right hook he throws at the boy impresses even Derek. The punch lands with a sickening smack and Stilinski keels over, tumbling onto the floor.

Previously forgotten instincts surge up in Derek and he's up from his seat before he even knows what's happening. He halts his progress however, when he sees the grace and fluidity with which the kid jumps to his feet. There's something about the movements that mesmerize Derek. It's like there's a hidden strength lurking beneath the surface and when Stilinski straightens up and locks his eyes on Jackson, Derek feels a thrill go up his spine.

"You really don't get it, do you?" the kid asks his opponent.

Jackson looks really confused, his fist drawn back, ready to strike again.

Stilinski dances out of reach, dragging the girl, Erica, with him.

"She has epilepsy, Jackson. Of course she'd want to be a werewolf's mate. A bite would cure her!" he snorts, looking like the bully in front of him is no more than a piece of sticky gum clinging stubbornly to the sole of his shoe. "You and your merry gang are always making life a living hell for anyone who's different. A lot of us would give anything to get out of this fucking crappy town; far away from you!"

The guy, who Derek is already calling 'Brawn-For-Brains' in his head, launches for Stilinski with a primal roar. Because he's already watching, Derek sees the tiny narrowing of the kid's eyes, a millisecond before he twists out from under Jackson, his nimble fingers grabbing the muscled arm in a flash. Then, he proceeds to brace his back against his attacker and yanks on that arm. It causes Jackson to vault clean over Stilinski's head and land on the floor with a mighty crash, his designer clothes in disarray.

Brawn-For-Brains scrambles back on his feet, his face an ugly, dark shade of red, from rage or humiliation or most probably both.

"What the fuck, Stilinski?" he shouts, stomping across the room to loom over the boy, who has managed to get the girl into a chair in the corner.

The boy spins around, a pinched expression on his face.

"Just back off, Jackson! I don't want to deal with your shit right now."

After deliberating for a few moments, Jackson gives the boy a look of disdain, his lip curling, and mutters, "Whatever!" He retreats back to a chair on the other side of the room trying to look unaffected, but Derek can hear his heartbeat thumping along. This guy probably always gets his way simply because he's the popular guy, playing sports and dating the school's beauty queen. He is truly handsome, but Derek learned long ago that personality is way more important, for several reasons.

Derek observes Stilinski sitting in the chair next to the girl, a supporting hand on her shoulder.

"Are you all right?" the boy asks.

"Yeah," she sighs, "I'm used to it by now. It's just... he's right, you know. I would go willingly if Mister Hale wanted me. There isn't much to keep me at home and I've had enough of being mocked for a disability I can't help. When a seizure hits, I can still hear and see what happens around me. I've heard what they say about me, I see them recording it on their stupid phones and laughing like it's a joke. It isn't!" she exclaims in a fierce tone. Derek can practically feel the emotions emanating from her through the wall.

"I'm sorry I never did more to help," Stilinski says. He doesn't look like he's pitying her, but there's empathy there for sure.

She huffs a quiet laugh and gives his shoulder a light punch.

"No worries, Stiles. You had your own stuff to deal with. I mean, your mum and... they never really treated you well either, did they?"

Stilinski - the kid's name is Stiles Stilinski? For real? - swallows and looks away. His shoulders are tense all of a sudden and he clears his throat awkwardly.

Erica throws a quick glance at him and winces.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bring that up... Forget I said anything!"

Stiles shakes his head and forces a tight smile on his face.

"Don't worry about it, Erica."

They sit in silence for a few long minutes before the girl wraps her arms around herself and mumbles quietly, "My grandmother died when I was ten. She had a seizure in the bathtub and nobody was home to help her. I know what it feels like, Stiles. Only, my mum was there to drag me out before I went unconscious."

The boy reaches over and squeezes her hand. He doesn't start blabbering to offer comfort and reassurances that she doesn't have to worry. He obviously knows what real life is like and he refuses to give anybody false hope. The boy doesn't seem cynical, he's just not one to offer fake consolation. Derek recognizes some of it in himself as well. He finds himself intrigued by the kid despite his best efforts to remain detached from the proceedings.

Erica sighs and speaks again, "Is it really so wrong for me to wish for something that can actually cure me?"

Stilinski offers her a genuine smile.

"No, it isn't."

Silence reigns again until about half an hour later, when Jackson gets to his feet with an exasperated huff.

"If this jerk even going to show up? I don't want to sit here the whole fucking day!"

There's a general muttering of agreement from the rest of the room.

"I have plans with my boyfriend tonight," a dark haired girl complains, viciously jabbing her iPhone.

"Perhaps he's just not that eager to meet us," Stiles interjects, voice dripping with sarcasm, "given you're all bitching about being here and he's supposed to be looking for a mate!"

Jackson snorts, "Who the fuck cares? We all know this is just a way for them to choose someone to pound through the mattress for a night. This tradition should be annulled, it's like, ancient!"

The kid is gaping, his pretty mouth forming a perfect 'O' and Derek can't help that his mind goes straight into the gutter. He pulls himself out of there though, when Stilinski sputters.

"What? _No_! These offerings are so the wolves can find a mate!"

Jackson and a few of the others laugh mockingly.

"What planet are you from?" the muscled guy gasps between guffaws, "Neither of the Hales have picked a mate anywhere for more than six years! And personally I'm fine with them only breeding with their own kind."

When a flash of disappointment crosses Stiles' face, Derek feels a stab of guilt low in his gut. Perhaps he and Peter should have stopped this ridiculous tradition and formed another treaty with the humans. Probably the only reason it hasn't already been resolved is the fact no one has wanted to deal with it, since the death of almost the entire Hale family is connected with this event. Derek decides to talk to his uncle about this as soon as possible. For now though, he needs to do his duty.

For the first time since Kate, Derek finds himself wanting to get close to someone. Stiles fascinates him and he can feel his inner wolf pulling to get close and scent the boy. Besides, there's something so very honest about the kid, it seems impossible for him to try to deceive Derek like the Argent she-devil did. He remembers his father had always told him to listen to his wolf, to his instincts, and they are tearing through Derek now, urging him to take a chance for once. To live again.

He gets up and goes to the door leading into the room, where he pauses to take a deep breath. He hears a chair creak and the boy's voice whisper, "Well, if he isn't like totally evil, I wouldn't mind just a good fuck."

A giggle Derek recognizes as Erica's follows.

"Yeah I guess Beacon Hills isn't swarming with good looking gay guys, huh?"

"Hale is gay?" Stiles asks, voice incredulous.

Erica snorts.

"Naw, he's bi as far as I know. Could be rumours, I don't know. He's supposed to be hotter than Hugh Jackman dancing on a waffle iron."

The kid barks a laugh, quickly muffling it again.

Derek checks the list he has with the names of this year's offerings and finds an Erica Reyes and a Stiles Stilinski.

All right, no use dragging this out.

As he pushes the door open, complete silence falls and everybody turns to watch Derek enter. He lets his eyes glow, just to provoke and it doesn't fail. Apart from a few, they all flinch. Derek notices that neither Erica nor Stiles reacts with apprehension; in fact, the boy rolls his eyes and mumbles "Dramaqueen" under his breath. Derek kind of wants to laugh.

Instead, he barks out, "Stilinski and Reyes, everybody else out!"

There's a mad scramble for the doors and soon he's alone with Erica and Stiles.

"Um, did you want a threesome or something?" the boy asks, perplexed.

Derek can't help the crooked smile erupting on his face.

"No," he rumbles, trying to mellow his usually rough facade. Not that Stiles seems to be easily unnerved.

Turning towards the blonde girl, Derek tones down the smile, but keeps an open expression.

"Hi Erica, I'm Derek. If you truly want it, I can talk to my uncle about giving you the bite. It's not often done, and you will have to officially request it so we don't breach the contract with the humans, but I'm sure we can figure something out."

Erica looks shocked, her expression disbelieving, but slowly it melts into a smile. A spark of hope seems to light up in her eyes.

"Really?" she asks, voice timid.

Derek nods and gives her a smile, "If you leave your number, I will call you when I've talked to my uncle."

She grins radiantly and spins on her heel, waving before walking out. The door clicks shut behind her just as Stiles says, "Should've known you'd be lurking, listening in."

Derek allows a wicked smile to invade his features. The boy swallows and for the first time, he seems to be nervous, fidgeting a little. Derek takes pity on him, extending a hand for a shake.

"Hi Stiles, I'm Derek. I know this whole procedure is a bit artificial and um... antiquated, I'm sorry about that."

In response, the kid narrows his eyes and tilts his head like a confused puppy. Derek refuses to find it adorable.

"So you aren't gonna fuck me? Wow, that's too bad!" the kid laments, giving Derek an obvious once-over.

He can't help the laugh that bursts forth.

"Well, if you really want it, we can certainly arrange that, but I was thinking I'd like to at least take you out for dinner first."

Stiles looks surprised for a moment and then waggles his eyebrows.

"Gonna make an honest man of me?" the kid jokes.

"We'll see," Derek chuckles. "So, how about it?"

Stiles smirks at him.

"Sure, as long as I can get curly fries!"

******~ The End ~**


End file.
